The Dancing King
by msceila7
Summary: Harry gets banned from Quiddich- so what does he do? Dances, of course. H/Hr. Very AU. Rated T just to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

The Dancing King

Disclaimer(for whole story): Characters belong to J.K. Rowling

Plunking down next to Hermione in the Great Hall, Harry began to shovel pancakes into his mouth. Syrup dripped off his tongue and was smeared on his face. Mid-chew, he noticed all the girls in the entire hall were staring at him. Harry was confused.

He turned to Hermione and asked, "Are my manners really that bad?"

"Yeah," she replied, "You should read '101 Rules of Conduct' by Lissandra Spwoonsh. But that's not why they're staring. Harry, you do realize you are one of the most sought-after wizards of the century, right? Well, you are wearing a very tight t-shirt and leggings. Pretty... revealing."

"I'm guessing you want an explanation," Harry deduced.

"Yup," Hermione answered.

"Well, you know how Toad-Face banned me from Quiddich, right? I am turning to dancing instead. I took dance lessons as a kid. Well, 'Dudley' did- he made me show up in his stead and teach him key moves to fool Aunt Petunia with. I learned everything, practically, in the five years that Aunt Petunia was oblivious. Ballet, jazz, hip-hop, breakdance, modern, and even a little ballroom. One dance a year, but I was and am an amazing dancer. Want to see?" Harry asked cockily.

Without waiting for a response, he jumped up onto the dining table. Magically, almost intuitively, the dishes slid away, some disappearing if necessary. Harry flicked his wand and a rap started to play. Harry started to groove.

He did a few flips and aerials before the music changed to a wild pop song. Harry swayed his hips and did a flawless routine. He made to stop when Hermione interfered, switching the song to a sales. Coincidentally, Hermione had taken dance too, but only salsa, ballet, and ballroom, which was still a pretty impressive repertoire.

Smiling, Harry began to salsa with Hermione, dipping and twirling her. Everyone in the Great Hall was staring at them. The girls all desperately want to be Hermione, getting swayed around by Harry. The two were amazing dancers, truly.

As the music changed yet again, even the teachers couldn't gain the courage to say anything, let alone take away points. As Hermione did an arabasque and a frappè, everyone gasped. They pranced and jumped around so elegantly all watching were breathless just from witnessing the dance. As the music cut out, Hermione ended up in Harry's arms.

Snape had enjoyed the dance immensely, but had a reputation to uphold.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for dancing on the table," he yelled.

"Ten points TO Gryffindor for that lovely dance exhibition," countered Proffesor Sprout. Snaps sighed, muttering under his breath.

Little did he know a certain Colin Creevey had snapped a picture of him smiling..

Across the hall at the Gryffindor table, Hermione realized something. She turn to Harry to question him, her mouth open to speak. Harry seized the moment to do something he had always wanted to do with his bookish friend: he french-kissed her. To his surprise, she kissed back. They stayed like that for almost three minutes, until an "Ick!" from a first-year shook them out of their reverie.

They sprang apart, Harry saucily winking and whispering, "I took Dudley's salsa lessons two months after." Hand in hand, the more-than friends walked out of the Great Hall to Potions with the Slytherins.

(A/N: Ron is a Hufflepuff)

Snape walked into his classroom late, frazzled about Granger and Potter's performance. He found Granger and Potter on the floor. Grinding.

"Chill out, Prof," Harry said, with attitude, whilst doing an attitude.

(A/N: ;) couldn't resist)

"Yeah, we were just coffeegrinding. Harry was teaching me," Granger said innocently. That pushed Snape over the edge.

"I know what a coffegrinder is! I took a breakdance/ modern class!" Snape snapped, realizing too late what he had admitted.

"Cool, Prof. Bet you can't execute," Harry smirked insolently. Everyone was watching this display, rapt.

"I too can!" yelled an infuriated Snape.

"Oh yeah, toucan? You're an old bird," Harry taunted, venturing out onto a thin limb.

"I'll show you!" Snape yelled, sinking to the ground. He began to whirl his legs around and around.

"Slowpoke!" teased Harry spinning his legs clockwise so fast they were a blur. Snape knew he was beat.

"Oh, yeah? I can potion better than you," leered the professor, desperate for something to be better at.

"Not so fast. I got my mastery when I was 11," countered Harry.

"I'm more devious!" Snape screamed/pleaded. The bell rang.

As Harry sauntered out the door, he turned around and said, "Um. I'm more devious. I kept you so occupied we didn't do anything all lesson nor received homework."

Harry gave Hermione a chaste kiss and they danced all the way to Charms, literally. They shared that class with the Hufflepuffs. On the note of Puffs, though, Harry and Hermione danced into a very sad looking tear-streaked Cho Chang.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked sweetly, in a comforting voice.

"You," Cho hissed venomously. She whipped out her wand, pointed it at Hermione, and shouted, "Stupe-"

Harry stopped the attack with a wandless full-body bind. Hermione quickly Obliviated Cho's memory of Harry's spell and the whole encounter.

The Golden Duo made their way to charms, where they did a samba roll into the classroom. They sat down at their seats and held hands.

Flitwick gazed at the obvious PDA going on between some of his formerly reclusive, shy students. He decided not to take away any points from the two Gryfs. He sighed and sat down on his tall chair, taking attendance. He realized Ron Weasley and Cho Chang were absent. Odd. Ron was a total slacker, Flitwick's least favorite person in his house. But Cho, Cho was punctual to a fault.

The door to the classroom barged open, with two students barging in, lip-locked. Everyone stared at the nauseating sight of a pizza-stained Ron with bad body odor making out with pretty, elusive Cho Chang, the fact she had mascara running down her face didn't diminish her attractiveness.

"Oh, Ron," Cho whispered. "Thanks for helping me get over it." By it, Cho meant her crush on Harry. Flitwick uncertainly sat there for a minute, not daring to break the silence.

In his classroom, a certain Severus Snape fumed. That insolent whelp, walking about as if he owned Hogwarts. Just think of the boy gave Snape an overwhelming desire to smash something. How would he make it through the rest of the year?

Desperate, he rummaged through his ingredient-stained files, most of them being potion recipes. Finally, he came upon the correct file. 'Marylouhelp ', it read. Snape apparated into a random Muggle home and used the compooter or whatever it was called. Satisfied of his counseling appointment, Snape appeared back in Hogwarts with a pop.

Flitwick cleared his throat.

"Ahem," He squeaked. "You are late. Five points from Hufflepuff per person." The two just nodded as they stared into each others eyes. Flitwick banged his fist on his desk and they snapped out of it.

"Today we will be learning the Oermorfius Charm. It allows you to morph into an animal or other person, like Polyjuice. But, it's faster. Most people can only change part of their body, and could have a wolf head. Or something like that. The incantation is Demorfius OerWolf, for example, if you wanted to be a wolf. Set a time limit, though, or you'll be stuck like that for a week! Anyone want to try?"

Harry and Hermione both raised their hands. Flitwick nodded for both to go.

"Demorfius OerMeAtProm 15 minutes," shouted Hermione, who melted into an older, done-up version of Hermione. Before Harry could go, Flitwick remembered something.

"You can't morph into someone against their will," the teacher reminded. Many girls sighed: so much for morphing into Hermione to steal Harry's heart.

"Demorfius OerMeAtMyWedding 15 minutes," boomed Harry. Everyone gasped as Hermione's purple empire waisted dress turned triply and white. Flitwick looked impressed but kept his mouth shut.

"Shall we dance?" piped Hermione. Harry answered by grabbing her waist. They waltzed around the room gracefully and the dance was concluded with a dip into a searing kiss. In that moment, all the girls in the room knew they had no chance with Harry.

Please R&R! I will update faster if you do. ;) msceila7


	2. Chapter 2

The Dancing King- Chapter 2

Hermione and Harry left the room, hand in hand. The aura surrounding them gave out powerful surges of love. Their combined aura was so strong that even Mrs. Norris stayed away, afraid to meddle.

They walked down so many dilapidated stone staircases on their quest for the Great Hall that even photographic-memoried Hermione lost track. Granted, she had a very real distraction: Harry. The couple finally made their way to their lunch destination, though.

Just before they entered, Harry grabbed Hermione and started carrying her bridal-style. What heightened this effect is that she had recast her Oermorfius Charm and was wearing the triply white dress with lace sash. Harry leaned down and kissed Hermione, pushing into her mouth with his tongue. She surprised him by fighting back with her own. She stood up and they snogged like that for as many as five minutes, their hands drifting lower and lower as they kissed. Harry picked up Hermione again and they started into the Great Hall.

They saw everyone looking at them strangely- and Hermione wondered why- but the bright fourth-year witch realized her Oermorfius was still on. She blushed as Harry set her down next to him. Fred and George Weasley catcalled at the Golden Duo.

"Have you ever seen the movie Lady and the Tramp?" Harry asked sporadically.

"That one about those dogs? Yes. Why?" Hermione responded. Harry held up a bowl of spaghetti, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said. "I don't really feel comfortable with that."

"But you're comfortable with snogging your heart out in the halls?" Harry countered, coyly. The eavesdropping Weasley twins catcalled.

"Harry, it's just... I need all the food I can get. I'm growing!" Hermione exclaimed, trying to find a plausible reason as to why she didn't take him up on his pasta offer

"Yes you are," said Harry, staring at her chest.

"Harry!" Hermione huffed indignantly. She slapped him gently and ran out of the Hall. All the girls in the Great Hall felt hopeful; until Harry followed her.

Wordlessly, the couple in the hallway began an elaborate salsa. Professor Snape, who had skipped most of lunch to grade papers, was walking to the Great Hall to grab a sandwich. He saw the two fourth-years engaging in an extremely difficult salsa. They were performing it flawlessly. Snape sank to the ground, crying. Life wasn't fair.

After Transfiguration and Herbology, Harry and Hermione were done for the day. They headed up to the Gryffindor Tower. The Fat Lady opened without a password being given, admiring the cute couple. She voiced her thoughts.

"You two are too cute together," she squealed. The couple just smiled.

A large group of students were gathered together in the common room.

"Hey, guys. Wanna play Vote-tion?" offered Seamus.

"What's that?" asked Hermione.

"Well, it starts out like truth or dare, turns into spin the bottle, switches to seven minutes in heaven, then at the end everyone votes for their favorite round/partner/couple. The winner gets to make everyone do one thing- the others must take a potion so they must do the task," he explained. Harry and Hermione decided to join.

They lucked out. Every round there were pairs, they ended up paired with each other. The only low moment was when Dean dared Parvati to kiss Harry for twenty seconds. Otherwise, it was a Hermione/Harry snogfest. Not surprisingly Hermione and Harry won. As the Fat Lady had said, they were too cute. They conferred in whispers before deciding to make everyone dress up in formal wear and lobby for a school dance. All playing the game were relieved Harry and Hermione were so nice; the could have been playing Quidditch naked with the Slytherins if Dean had had his way.

Meanwhile, one Severus Snape was banging his head on a desk at a counseling session.

"Don't bother. The boy seems a professional dancer. You are a professional teacher. You can out-teach him. He is learning from YOU. Don't, I repeat don't, forget that," the counselor, Mary Lou, reassured him. Snape's head-pounding ceased and his sobs weren't as loud. He apparated away. Mary Lou billed his bank account for ten galleons.

That man was going mad.

In the Gryffindor common room, Harry and Hermione kissed one last time and went up to their separate dorms. They both clambered into their separate beds and fell asleep, dreaming of each other.

Hermione woke up early and dressed in comfortable clothes. She donned a white t-shirt, Abercrombie sweatpants, and black ballet slippers. She decided not to wear her pointes as they might grow uncomfortable. She transfigured a washcloth into a Gryffindor hoodie and stole down towards the Great Hall.

Harry yawned and rolled out of bed. He slipped on a Superman t-shirt, stretched jeans, and his hip-hop shoes.

(A/N: Hip-hop shoes look like sneakers with really high arches)

He ran into Hermione and they linked hands and walked out of the portrait hole. He saw her Gryffindor hoodie and was inspired.

"Hermione, I have to use the bathroom," he said. She nodded. Harry dashed into the bathroom and transfigured some toilet paper into a manly version of Hermione's hoodie. He popped out and was rewarded with a smile from his girlfriend. They did a little pas de deux into the Great Hall. Snape saw them and almost had a coronary. HE never had a girlfriend. 'Keep calm, Severus.' he thought to himself. 'You are a better teacher than he is.' The Great Hall filled up and before the Potions professor knew it, it was his dreaded first period class.

Harry danced in with his girl, much to Snape's annoyance.

"I can teach better than you!" the angry Potions master shot out instinctively.

"Your counselor probably told you that. Wanna bet you're better?" Harry taunted.

"Yeah. Twenty galleons," Snape barked. Harry walked to the front of the room.

"I'll teach today," he said. He launched into a fascinating speech about the Moonglow Potion and its uses. He then gave a step-by-step lesson/demonstration of how to make the potion.

"Distribio Recipe Card," the fourth-year whispered. Everyone got a care with the potion recipe on it. "Brew the potion. If you do well, homework is a paragraph on Moonglow and its uses. Otherwise, you must do that and revere the potion," Harry stated giving the perfect amount of the perfect homework. The bell rang.

Snape was royally pissed. That boy beat him at his own game! The enraged professor banged his head on the desk and gave himself a concussion. He swore in his head.

A/N: Please R&R! I love reviews! ;) msceila7


	3. Chapter 3

The Dancing King- Chapter 3

Professor Snape was found, knocked out, during lunch, but nobody cared. Why? Hogwarts was going to have a Winter-Spring Transitional Formal. All the girls were too busy stalking dates and going gaga over Madame Malkins finest to care about an ugly old professor.

The boys, too, were into it, asking girls to go with them. To most girls and boys, hot Gryffindors walking around in formal wear harking the school dance was much more interesting than a concussed Potions teacher.

In the Infirmary, Snape grovelled, clutching an ice pack to his bandaged head. Curse that insolent Potter, stealing all the talent. Severus would show him. Once he got an idea from Mary Lou, that is.

During Transfiguration, stern Mcgonagall had to yell at Harry and Hermione ten times for hand-holding. She would have continued to do so, too, until she noticed the pair's hoodies. She asked the two for one, and she examined it. All the other Gryffindors in the class looked on enviously as she pronounced the hoodie 6th year curriculum at least. She decided to ask the rest of the class to try it, too.

As the others did this, Harry and Hermione started working on a foxtrot, using Hermione's phone to give them instructions.

The Golden Duo's classmates all had varying levels of success. Parvati made a perfect hoodie, but could only make it doll-sized. Dean made a nice hoodie- but it was pink and had the Hufflepuff emblem.

"Think I could sell this?" he mused.

Most everyone else struggled with the project.

"I'd rather make something else... that starts with L," Seamus said to the class, which cost Gryffindor five points, but gained him a bunch of laughs.

"Of course you would, Seamus," sighed Lavender.

Hermione, bored, began toying around with her outfit

Suddenly, the air sparkled around Hermione and she was wearing a stunning formal gown. It was of white chiffon with navy blue manga-esque flowers splashed all over. Harry's jaw dropped.

But somehow, he knew enough to start foxtrotting with Hermione. Mcgonagall almost squealed at their level of mastery of her favorite childhood dance. They owned the classroom, and finally danced out the door when the shrill, banshee-like bell rang through the air.

When the Gryffindors retired to their common room after Herbology and Divination, Snape was hurrying to counselling with Mary Lou. He apparated there almost foaming at the mouth.

"That Potter, he taught a perfect class! Gave just the right amount if homework, was engaging, AHHHHK!" ranted the professor. Mary Lou mulled this over. She frowned, clearly in thought.

"Well, you are the best Severus Snape there is. He's not you," Mary Lou said in a calming tone.

"You're right!" he exclaimed, apparating away. Back in the dungeons, Snape thought of how to reassure himself that he was the best him. He decided to enter a Severus Snape Look-Alike and Imitation contest. Donning his blackest robes, he apparated to such a contest.

In the common room, Harry was doing his Snape impressions.

"Wow, Harry, you're really good," squeaked Neville.

"Thanks!" Harry said. "There's a Snape Look-Alike contest annually in my hometown.

Should I enter? "

(A/N: The books and movies have come out, but nobody thinks the world is real. And, in a way, it isn't. That's why there can be a Snape Look-Alike contest)

"Totally," replied Neville. So, with Hermione's help, Harry dressed up like Snape, in the blackest robes he owned. Hermione helped him transfigure a wax mask and a wig. In a matter of minutes, Harry was ready to go.

After he promised to tell Hermione the results, Harry used his secret Portkey and was there in seconds. He arrived in a mass of people in black robes and fought his way to a plastic table to register.

"Name?" a very bored teen asked Harry.

"Harry Potter," he replied in the same nondescript voice. The teen smiled and handed him a sticker with a number on it.

"Thanks." Harry walked away, joining the line of people waiting to go onstage. He had a fairly good place and soon was backstage. He could hear a weak voice saying something. Pathetic. They would totally lose to him.

Snape was standing in the queue right behind a lad in a very realistic wax mask and wig. He could hear the boy talking to himself. Pathetic. All would be vanquished by the real Severus Snape.

Harry finally stepped on stage.

"Hello. What do you think you are doing here? I believe my blood status will allow me to tell you what to do. I can tell you how to brew potions, stop death, if you aren't as dumb as the usual group I have to teach at Hogwarts," Harry sneered. He said a few more things and shuffled about. As he walked off the stage he knew he had placed well.

Snape listened in shock to the boy on stage. The teacher could have sworn it was him speaking. Scowling, he walked onstage.

The judges were impressed by the man's evil scowl. But his dialogue wrecked his performance.

"I am the real Severus Snape," he said. Then, he walked off. It was the worst monologue in the long, long history of the look-alike contest. The judges knew he would place last unless one of the fifty others who had yet to go were worse. But that would be very hard to do.

Snape walked off stage, satisfied. The judges would listen to him. After all, he was the best Snape there was. So complacent was he that he never stopped to consider there were 87 others dressed and acting exactly like him.

Harry paced nervously for twenty minutes, awaiting the results. When the runner came with them, Harry practically pounced on him. With bated breath, the nervous impersonator watched the results get taped up. He did a fist-pump, Jersey Shore style, when he realized he was first. He tore off his mask and started dancing around, glad he had contacts so he didn't have to wear glasses anymore

Snape watched that boy do a fist-pump. It was surprising that someone could be so excited about runner-up. 'Crazy Muggles,' he thought, running over to check the list. His heart fell as he realized that he had LOST. Lost a HIM-impersonating contest. It stung. Some kid named Harry Potter had won. Wait. Harry Potter? NO FREAKIN' WAY!

Snape started to go into a coma out of shock. As he lost consciousness, he saw Potter dancing around. Celebrating his demise. Life was not fair.

A/N: More Snape bashing... Please review! The Winter-Spring Transitional Formal next chapter (probably). ;) msceila7


	4. Chapter 4

The Dancing King- Chapter 4

Harry portkeyed back to Hogwarts and told Hermione the results.

(A/N: It's a secret, illegal portkey, so it has secret, illegal ways of breaking through the Hogwarts wards without being noticed.)

Hermione responded to the news well- she leaped towards Harry and pulled him into a searing kiss that wentvon for ten or more minutes before a prefect gathered up the nerve to tap them on their shoulders and whisper, "There are first-years here."

That caused the two lover's to spring apart very quickly, blushing. The prefect almost regretted stopping their kiss, they were so perfect together.

A seventh year snapped the rule-keeper out of his reverie by yelling, "Get a room!" at the two fourth-years.

The prefect shot him daggers with his eyes, pointing meaningfully at the first years.

"What does 'Get a room?' mean?" asked an innocent first-year named Maisy Dother.

"Yeah, tell us," quipped the first-years eagerly. The prefect sighed and pointed at the offending seventh-year.

"You, sir, will be explaing just what that means to everyone in the common room," the vexed boy shouted at the seventh year, who paled.

"Well, uh... you see, it, um, you know... it means that, like, uh... ha, Um-does-everybody-here-know-what-sex-is?" the seventh-year blurted out.

"What's sex? What's sex?" the young first years chorused. The seventh-year did a face palm.

Harry and Hermione decided to have mercy on the poor guy and did a very elaborate, lengthy, and overall distracting slow dance, during which the seventh-year made a run for it. The first-years oohed and aahed.

The common room emptied except for one very befuddled Maisy Dother.

"What's sex?" the eleven year old asked, confused.

Severus Snape awoke, with a splitting headache he could only assume was a concussion, in a Muggle hospital, looking at the pretty daisies on the ceiling above him.

'What pretty daisies,' he thought dazedly, an IV drip running into his arm. He yawned and said, "Pretty, pretty, pretty." The nurse noticed him speaking.

"Doctor Dallas, he's awake," she called out.

"Wow, he snapped out of it fast, only took him sixteen hours," commented the doctor, his interest piqued. Snape continued to babble delusionally.

"I wonder where he works, so we can send the bill," the nurse pondered. This caused the man to become agitated. He rolled over and disappeared with a pop, leaving the poor doctor and his nurse driven to a point of mental insanity.

Snape crawled into bed at Hogwarts, not even considering going to the infirmary. He'd have to explain what he'd been doing, and he didn't want his counseling sessions coming up. So Snape just lay there, mumbling about his 'head ouchie'.

The entire Great Hall ate their breakfast nervously. Snape was conspicuously absent from the hall, and usually that meant bad things from him. They would have rejoiced had they known his current condition would mean no Potions classes for a long while. A substitute would have to be found.

Dumbledore glanced worriedly around the hall. Where was Severus? Hopefully he wasn't sick. As bad as it sounded, Dumbledore hoped he was plotting something nasty. A good, willing Potions sub for Hogwarts was very hard to find. Had Dumbledore known the magnitude of Snape's injuries, he would have yelped and fumbled for his wand. But he didn't. So he didn't.

Severus Snape moaned, reaching for his wand on his bedside table. His hand grazed the tip, but he couldn't quite reach it. He groaned in frustration. He really needed a headache-relief potion, and if he could only summon it...

He could picture himself, enjoying the sweet relief that only a potion could bring. Angered, Severus banged on his bed. He heared a rattling noise. He smiled and was glad, for the first time ever, that Gryffindors pranked his bed with Muggle pills called Aleve, knowing he liked potions, not pills, and hated Muggles. Usually, it infuriated him, but as he choked down two pills dry, he was extremely satisfied.

Until he screamed in agony realizing the real Aleve pills had been replaced at some point (probably by those pesky Hufflepuff twins by the last name of Weasley) by Princess Pearina's Painfullest Pain Pills. How did known the name, one might wonder? He had fallen victim to them more than once. He desperately wanted his wand now. He would have loved to Accio his self-invented Anti-Perina potion. Writhing in agony, Snape rolled over onto his broken rib. His nerves overloaded with pain, Snape passed out, convulsing.

Harry and Hermione sat with their fellow students in a Potions classroom with an obvious lack of teacher for twenty minutes. That is, until a woman in a slimy-looking, tight black dress ran in, her bun atop her head pulled so tight her eyes slanted up in a way most unbecoming on her.

"Hello. I'm Ms. Reyner," she said cheerfully. Her eyes narrowed when she saw Harry."I'm going to be teaching you something new today. Mr. Potter will be helping me," she commanded smoothly. She then grabbed Harry from his seat (it wasn't too difficult, the dancer had a slight build) and dragged him up to the front of the room. "Ahem," Ms. Reyner coughed as she began to grind against Harry. Harry squirmed and tried to get away. Before Ms. Reyner could continue, Hermione piped, "Ms. Reyner, you are violating Clause XV of the Hogwarts Rules, by having sexual contact with a student. See Chapter 5 of Hogwarts, a History, and you'll see it on page 45."

Harry did a mad jazz run out the door with Hermione hot on his heels. They speeded to Dumbledore's gargoyle and panted, breathless, outside fir a minute until Hermione got the courage to say, "Lemon Drop." The couple hurried up the stone spiral staircase.

Please review! Also, suggestions on where to go next with the story would be nice. I've sstarted to get writers block. Thanks! ;) msceila7


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